


What Will You Bring?

by Zarla



Series: Vargas Stories [12]
Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: F/M, In a way, Jealousy, M/M, Original Character(s), Possessiveness, Protectiveness, casual mentions of violence and murder, jealousy all around here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-30
Updated: 2008-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarla/pseuds/Zarla
Summary: Johnny wants to go out, abruptly, and Edgar goes along with it, as he usually does. What else can he do, considering?He didn't expect Johnny to want to go to the beach though.
Relationships: Johnny "Nny" C./Edgar Vargas, Nny/Devi (mentioned), Scriabin/Edgar (implied)
Series: Vargas Stories [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/20964
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	What Will You Bring?

**Author's Note:**

> Another old ficlet I dredged up from my files. I forgot how many of these I had...
> 
> Set in Vargas, probably somewhere between chapter 16-18.

Just when he thought he understood Johnny, he'd do something that proved him wrong.

Johnny hated being touched and by extension, Edgar assumed that he disliked any kind of real physical stimulation whatsoever. A desensitization not only from human interaction but from all interaction. 

Not so, apparently. 

Edgar was surprised when Johnny asked him at first to take him out somewhere. Scriabin was vastly amused by this and kept calling it a date, which Edgar ignored as best he could. Edgar assumed it would be to the cliff side that Johnny was so fond of, but again Johnny managed to surprise him. 

Johnny wanted to go to the beach. 

Edgar puzzled over this for the drive over there, although he never asked him outright. A beach, of all things. Not even considering the fact that their nearby beach was one of the filthiest in the country, why on earth would Johnny want to go to a place that had so many other people? 

Did he want to risk that, unpleasant human interaction? He doubted it. Was this trip for Edgar, rather than for Johnny? Also doubtful, considering that Johnny would have...well, asked in that case, if he wanted to go. Then again, this _was_ Johnny... 

Some kind of store or food there that Johnny particularly liked? Maybe, but Edgar still couldn't see Johnny spending that much time in a place so full of people, at least enough to find a food or activity that would make it all worthwhile. 

There were so many potential negatives for Johnny involved with in going to the beach. Edgar couldn't think of any one positive that would overrule them. It didn't make sense. What did Johnny want from this? Did Johnny expect Edgar to do something? In that case Edgar was in even more trouble, because he didn't have the slightest idea as to what Johnny wanted... 

The drive to the beach was crowded and difficult, with people repeatedly cutting him off, refusing to use turn signals, honking, and generally making the entire experience as unpleasant as possible. Johnny didn't seem to notice, maybe because he wasn't driving and had cranked the stereo in the car as loud as possible, but this only wore on Edgar's already frazzled nerves. Driving had become more and more of a hassle recently, and driving to the beach, in the summer no less, it was just... 

Not only that, the constant question of _why_ Johnny wanted to go to the beach kept occupying his thoughts, and he couldn't find an answer. Scriabin couldn't either, although he tended to keep his attitude towards the mildly amused. That was pleasant at least; Scriabin had been almost unbearably hostile over the last week. Edgar had no idea what had caused Scriabin's mood shift, and as with Johnny, he wasn't likely to get a straight answer. Another thing to ponder over while he struggled to keep the car from crashing. 

Finally they left the freeway and began the search for a parking lot nearby. The best they found was a lot that was some thirteen blocks away for a price that was hugely exorbitant. Also, the person who charged them for the parking spot was rude to Edgar. 

Despite the fact that Johnny, while Edgar couldn't say he was happy, seemed to be in a fairly neutral mood in the car, this easily pushed him over the edge. One screaming match with a recently disemboweled corpse later, and it looked like Edgar wouldn't have to pay for the parking spot either. 

He expected Scriabin to pick at him for letting Johnny do that, but all he got from him was a sense of satisfaction. Deeper thought again as to _why_ made the entire situation just slightly creepy, so Edgar tried to push it out of his mind.

Since Scriabin wouldn't do it, he questioned his own behavior. What did it mean, that he was able to ignore the death of another human being...? 

_Not every life is a delicate beautiful snowflake,_ Scriabin said casually, and Edgar shuddered. 

Johnny didn't take anything with him, but Edgar had prepared, as best he knew, the night before. He thought about bringing a cooler, but in the end decided that braving the depths of his hallway closet was too much work and just settled for money and a blanket. They could buy something to eat, and he assumed that Johnny would not be much for sand. It did get everywhere. 

The two of them made their way across the wooden planking of the boardwalk. The beach was filled with people, some sleeping, some swimming, some darting this way and that or playing games. Edgar glanced over at Johnny and found him staring at the shops nearby. 

Despite what Scriabin had said, Edgar really didn't want anyone else to die today for Johnny's comfort. 

"Nny, look." Edgar pointed and Johnny, thankfully, turned his attention back to him. "Over there, there's an empty spot. We could set up there." 

It took all his effort to resist saying "if you like." Scriabin would have had a field day if he said that _again_. 

Johnny looked back at the shops for a few seconds, then turned back to Edgar. He shrugged and didn't smile, but he followed Edgar's lead. 

The spot was near the marking line that indicated where the current in the ocean got particularly nasty. As a result, people swam as close to this line as possible. Toyed with death. Edgar found that an unsettlingly common practice with the people in this city, whether they knew it or not. 

_Oh, like you don't._

Beachgoers, though, perhaps preferred the space farther away, or maybe just didn't want to endure the constant shouting of the lifeguard telling those damn kids to stay away from the buoys. There was enough space here that Edgar felt relatively sure that they could avoid any kind of real incident... 

"I didn't bring an umbrella." Edgar wasn't the kind of person to sunburn easily and, judging from Johnny's skintone, he doubted he was either. Never hurt to ask, though. "Do you want any sunscreen or anything?" 

Johnny shuddered. "No, thank you." 

That was a strangely human and understandable reaction from Johnny, and Edgar somehow felt a little distressed afterwards. He wasn't sure why. He decided to push the feelings away and work on setting up the blanket. 

"Just asking." 

Johnny sat down on the blanket the minute it was on the sand and leaned back, hands behind his head. Edgar hesitated for a few minutes, trying to decide his best course of action. 

"Do you want me to get you anything? You looked pretty interested in those stores up there. I could go get it for you, if you-." No, stop it. 

Johnny smiled at him in a strangely carefree way. "That'd be great, Edgar. I-"

A volleyball whacked Edgar right in the back of the head and knocked his glasses clean off. With an unconscious "oof!" sound, Edgar stumbled forward a few steps to try and regain his balance. Even with his blurry vision, it was easy to see Johnny's dark colors against the sand as he leapt to his feet. 

"No no, it's okay." Edgar held up his hands, already finding his thoughts going directly to his glasses. They couldn't have gone far, but he'd pick them up after he calmed Johnny down. "It was an accident, don't...I'm fine." 

He couldn't see Johnny's expression, but he found again, to his general discomfort, that kind of ugly resentment coming from Scriabin. Indignation, wounded pride, and that desire for violence. 

_That goes for you too._

Scriabin just grumbled. Edgar again found himself feeling vaguely distressed, and so instead he turned his attention to the ground. The white blob against the sea of indistinct yellow wasn't too difficult to find, so he reached out and picked the volleyball back up. 

"Just an accident, nothing to get upset over." Edgar smiled in the general direction of Johnny and turned around. The rest of the beach was an indistinct mass of bright colors and motion, and Edgar had absolutely no idea where the ball had come from. He was just going to have to go by sound. 

"Hey, mind giving that back?" A voice that sounded angry and insulting. Edgar winced and hoped that he could defuse this quickly. He tossed the ball in the general direction of the voice and turned back to face the black mass that he assumed was Johnny. 

"Just an accident, nothing more." Edgar knelt and began to feel for his glasses. "It's okay." 

"Nice throw, _fag_!" That same voice and he could hear Johnny growling.

"Nny, don't." He was pushing it, he wouldn't have said it normally, but here, with all these people, Edgar really didn't want to generate unwanted attention. 

Forget another dead body- 

"Edgar..." Like it was a question, disbelief and confusion. 

"Please." Edgar took a deep breath and steeled himself for a rant. "Could you help me find my glasses, at least? I can't see anything..." 

_You should let him tear that guy apart._ Scriabin, likewise, growling. 

_Stop it, both of you._ It was safer to say internally. _You can't kill everyone who bothers me._

_Why not?_

The fact that Scriabin sounded somewhat serious about his question again made Edgar shiver. 

Johnny's hand touched his shoulder and Edgar looked up. Couldn't make out his face, even this close, but he didn't seem angry. He blearily made out Johnny holding his hand out to him, and Edgar reached out for it. As he thought, he felt his glasses. 

"Thank you." He put them back on and instantly felt better. Now that he could make him out, Johnny looked confused and somewhat conflicted. He glared over Edgar's shoulder and then back at him, wordlessly asking. 

"Nny, it's not worth it." Edgar shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm not hurt, nothing got damaged, it's nothing." 

Johnny stared over Edgar's shoulder, obviously disgusted. "I hate their arrogance, that disrespect..." 

"I know." Edgar sighed slightly. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Listen...what did you want me to get you?" 

Johnny seemed torn for a few minutes between continuing his train of thought or letting it go. He studied Edgar's face for a few seconds, then flopped back on the blanket with something like a huff. 

"Something with cherries." 

~~~

When Edgar came back, Johnny seemed to be napping on the blanket. He couldn't have really been asleep, considering how much he hated sleeping, but he had his eyes closed and he seemed fairly relaxed. For a few seconds Edgar felt relieved that nothing had happened while he was gone, but then he noticed the bloodstained knife stabbed into the sand by Johnny's side.

Edgar decided not to ask about it. 

When Edgar sat down beside him again, cherry smoothie in tow, Johnny opened his eyes and snatched the cup out of Edgar's hand with a kind of happy "whee" noise, fairly bouncing up and down. Edgar found that in the face of Johnny's apparent delight, he felt kind of contentedly satisfied. The moment the feeling crossed his mind, Scriabin tried to laugh at him but he still ended up sounding bitter. 

Looked like Scriabin's mood had been ruined. Guess he couldn't have the best of both worlds, but maybe that would have been too much to ask for. 

Johnny thanked him profusely which, Edgar found to his embarassment, he enjoyed maybe a little too much. Trying very hard not to think too hard about any of this, Edgar leaned back on his hands and alternately watched the ocean and Johnny. 

Johnny seemed purely happy with the drink that Edgar had gotten him and, Edgar found himself drawing the parallel even though he didn't want to, with what Edgar had done for him. 

Much like in the movie theater, in those very rare moments where the madness slipped to the wayside and for a minute he could pretend, Johnny seemed so normal. 

He seemed so normal, and being with Johnny seemed so safe. 

_Lies,_ Scriabin spat, and Edgar sighed. He was slightly surprised that Scriabin wasn't picking him apart more thoroughly, but maybe he was in too much of a bad mood to do that effectively. Merely sulk and occasionally insult him. In a way it was preferable, but Edgar knew that the intense shredding of his decisions and, by extension, himself, would happen later. 

"How often do you come here?" Edgar leaned back and closed his eyes. 

"Not very." Johnny still sounded very happy. 

Like a good deal of conversations between them, it dwindled off into nothing without conscious effort. Every now and again Edgar would bring up something that he thought might start it up again, but inevitably their time together was marked by large stretches of silence. Occasional question-answer, comment and response, then silence again. 

Edgar might have drifted off a few times, he wasn't sure. He was fairly confident that Johnny stayed beside him during those periods, but he couldn't say for sure. 

The day cooled and people began to leave. The lifeguard's shouts became more infrequent, the sounds of people arguing and playing more distant. Johnny sat beside him, although Edgar kept his eyes closed. 

Scriabin still felt somewhat resentful, although his anger had faded somewhat over time. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad later tonight. 

Johnny nudged him and Edgar opened his eyes a little reluctantly. The sky above was darker than usual, slowly changing and he sat up. The sun was setting and Johnny was watching the reflective light across the ocean waves. 

"It's nice to come here with someone else." 

Edgar covered his mouth with one hand as he yawned, then stared at Johnny with a smile. "It's nice to come here with you." 

There, Scriabin's smoldering resentment immediately flared back to life, and Edgar winced unconsciously. 

"You know..." Johnny kept his eyes focused on the ocean. "I would have liked to have brought Devi here..." 

Edgar winced again, and this time it was not because of Scriabin. Scriabin, in response, gave a loud and mocking _HA_. 

He was silent for a few seconds, trying to consider his words and find a way around his emotions, all of which were too tangled right now to sort through. Scriabin snorted, and Edgar could catch from him a mixture of satisfaction and that same kind of residual jealousy. 

Jealousy...that was Scriabin's. 

"She probably would have liked to have come here with you." Edgar coughed and cleared his throat. 

The rush of waves against the beach, the call of seagulls and the chiming sounds from the stores and arcades that were just close enough to be heard. Edgar looked over Johnny again, but Johnny kept staring out at the ocean. 

"Does it bother you, that I talk about her?" Johnny looked at him sidelong. Edgar shook his head quickly. 

"No, no, not at all, I mean..." Suddenly words became very hard to find. "You love her, don't you?" 

Johnny looked back to the ocean, tilted his head slightly. 

"Yeah, I do..." 

"After all this time, you still care about her...I think that's a good thing." Edgar cleared his throat again, as his voice sounded kind of strange. "It's something worth holding on to, I think. An emotion like that, I mean." 

_Think he'll ever love you like that?_ Scriabin said with a particularly nasty tone, and Edgar recoiled mentally and, although he didn't intend to, physically as well. Scriabin usually didn't go that quickly for the heart of the matter, but apparently he'd had enough. _Think he'll ever give her up for you? He won't and you know he won't. Imagine, imagine him fucking you and right when he-_

_Scriabin, stop-_

_Right when he comes, he'll shout her name. Wouldn't that be marvelous?_

_Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!_

"Edgar?" 

_He's just using you as a surrogate, as a replacement, as a makeshift Devi fucktoy-_

_Stop it, stop it please-_

He felt Johnny touch his shoulder and he opened his eyes. At that point he realized he had his hands pressed tightly to his head and he was giving himself a headache. He turned to look at Johnny and found him looking concerned, an expression that was becoming more familiar in recent days. 

"Edgar, are you okay?" 

_He doesn't love you, he loves her. The fact that every time I say that your heart jumps like you've been stabbed says something very unflattering about you, doesn't it? He loves her. There, again._

_Stop it-_

_Johnny loves Devi. There, heart jump. He loves her, Edgar, he loves her and not you._

_He's never loved me. _

_Oh, you poor boy._ Mocking condescension. _You are such a bad liar!_

_It's never been about that, God, stop it, stop it-_

"Edgar!" 

Staring into the distance that time. He found that he was putting pressure on one of his knuckles and his hands were shaking. He stopped and instead took hold of his shoulders. He was not going to start rubbing his fingers or something. He was not. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I was just..." Edgar tried to keep his voice from shaking. "I was just thinking, I didn't mean to daydream like that. I didn't ignore you, did I?"

 _Mmm..._ Edgar froze as he heard Johnny's voice, distinct and clear in his mind. 

_Oh God please, don't do this, don't do this to me, today was so-_

Another soft moan with Johnny's voice, and Edgar shuddered and closed his eyes, clenched his teeth tight. 

_Stop it, stop it please, stop doing this-_

_Haa..._ Another orgasmic groan with Johnny's voice and Edgar drew himself into a tight ball. Shut the entire world out in an effort to drown out his mental tormentor but it only got louder. _You're so good at this..._

_Stop stop stop stop-_

Increasing breaths, the rising strangled sound, then a sudden shout in his mind. 

_Oh, Devi!_

Edgar was choking, suffocating. 

_Oh, I'm sorry._ Scriabin's sarcasm with Johnny's voice. _That's not your name, is it? I hope you don't mind. Maybe I'll just call you that from now on. You'd let me, wouldn't you?_ Voice slowly changing back to his own, and his contempt was not hidden. _You would let him, you pathetic little doormat. You'd let him do that to you._

_Scriabin, please...please don't do this to me, not while he's here-_

_Fuck you._

"Edgar, please!" He was on his back and the sky above again, darkening to purple and blues, and he could see Johnny's face above his own, concerned and openly worried. "Are you okay? What happened?" 

"I'm sorry, I..." Edgar felt dizzy and hoped that talking out loud might quiet Scriabin down. Dizzy and sick and weak and he could barely move his hands. "I just, I just felt kind of dizzy, I'm sure it's nothing...it's nothing." 

Johnny gave him the same kind of doubting look from earlier, stared at him hard.  
"Are you sure you're okay?" 

"I'll be okay. I just haven't eaten something in a while..." Edgar ordered his body to sit up, but it refused to obey. 

"God, was it something I said? I don't want this to happen again." Johnny sounded honestly sincere. 

_After everything you've done, every sacrifice you've given, thoughts spent and sleepless nights in fear, every mental agony and torture you put yourself through, the scars under your eyes, the constant aborted attempts on your life, the inevitable eventual final murder. God, Edgar, why do you let him do this to you?_

Edgar's mental voice broke, despairing and hopeless. _Well shit Scriabin, why not?_

"It wasn't your fault..." There, he felt enough power to sit up properly, and he found Johnny's hand on his shoulder, guiding him up. "It wasn't your fault. Today was...I really enjoyed today, I just felt kind of dizzy, it's okay..." 

Johnny didn't believe him, and in a way, Edgar didn't blame him. 

"It doesn't bother you that I still love Devi?" Simple and honest. Edgar looked down at the beach, took a few shuddering breaths. 

"No, no it doesn't. It doesn't, I'm happy for you." He turned and smiled at Johnny weakly. "I think it's great, that you can feel that way about someone. If you felt, if you felt like...going back to her, or starting a relationship up with her again, you'd have my full support." 

Johnny stared at him, his expression difficult to read, and Edgar kept his weak smile. 

"I want you to be happy. More than anything. If she'll make you happy...than that's who you should go to. Simple as that, right? I just...I just want you to be happy, in the end." 

Scriabin's digust and hatred near and palpable, and he heard him take a breath. Edgar prepared himself for the oncoming attack, forced his eyes to stay open.

 _He doesn't fucking deserve you._ With all the fury and hatred that Scriabin could muster. 

Johnny stared at him for a few more seconds, eventually returned his smile. 

"It's...strange to think that someone would do that for me, after everything I've done..." 

"Everyone deserves a chance at happiness, right?" 

_Except you, apparently._

"Maybe Devi is your chance. I'd be okay with that." Edgar turned to look at the ocean again, found his eyes watering slightly. The sea air was getting to him, his skin felt itchy and hot. "You should go to whoever makes you happy." 

"Devi did make me happy..." Johnny said with a longing sigh. Then Edgar felt something touch his hand. He turned and found Johnny's thin fingers resting on top of his own, and he looked up at Johnny with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "You make me happy too, though." 

Edgar continued to stare at him while Johnny looked at the ocean, his hand not moving. He closed his eyes and whispered something in a soft and fond tone.

"You both make me happy..." 

Edgar blinked several times, rubbed at his eyes with one gritty hand and found his breath coming hard and fast. 

Scriabin's resentment more understated now, but he still sounded deadly serious.

_He doesn't deserve you._


End file.
